


Fool Me

by Liliko



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Banter, Bittersweet, Dense!Kaito, Dishonesty, Emotional Repression, M/M, Teasing, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 18:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliko/pseuds/Liliko
Summary: Maybe it was all a lie, but it was such a beautiful one.[Written for the Sagukai Creations Challenge]





	Fool Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Round 1 of the Sagukai Creations Challenge on Tumblr. Super late but I got there in the end ><"
> 
> The theme was 'First Times' and my prompt was 'Crying'. So here's this thing...

 

 

 

i.

 

Kuroba Kaito never cried. Not really, anyway. And never in front of anyone. Not at his father’s funeral. His mother had cried then, satin gloved hand pressed tight into his shoulder. Cried and cried like he’d never heard before.

But his old man had always told him never to show anyone what he felt inside. So Kaito had stood there; face stony, hands clenched, in his black tailored suit. So dashing, just like him, his mother had said. And he pretended he felt nothing at all.

He didn’t cry when Nightmare died. Not when he thought of the blood on his hands. Not when he went to scrub them clean, until they were red and raw and he could feel the painful beating of his heart trying to escape his ribcage. Not even when he thought of the little boy left behind. Left wondering what happened to the father he loved more than anything else in the world. The son who was eerily like him.

It was a lot easier on Kaito’s conscience to fake emotions than to express real ones. That wasn’t to say he always succeeded. His poker face wasn’t as good as his father’s yet. Maybe it would never be. Because his old man was so cool, so composed, as if nothing in the world could phase him. He still remembered the clinking glasses and laughter, the scrap of chips on tables, the crack of a new pack of cards, shuffled in the dealer’s hands. The money that changed hands. The smoke that clouded the room in a misty cloak of distorted reality. From the cigars of the men who lost everything to his old man. The whir of police sirens, the frantic yelling — when the illegal gambling ring was finally busted. And throughout it all, his father’s impassive, impenetrable facade. But to Kaito (and only Kaito) the quiet lilt of his smile, those eyes that never betrayed anything, the way he used to smile at him— as if they shared a secret.

You couldn’t be a magician without secrets. Now Kaito dealt in them. Lies and half-truths and cons. Anything that helped him get what he wanted.

 

-

 

It was easy to cry crocodile tears if he knew he’d get something out of it. Poker players were either so aggressive you didn’t know whether they were winning or loosing, or so unassuming you couldn’t believe they’d have it in them to bluff. Though he was usually the former, the later could be an option too. A test of his abilities.

Hakuba wasn’t an easy Detective to fool. As much as Kaito couldn’t stand him, it was something he had to admit. Still, there was no satisfaction without a challenge. Unlike Kudo or that other one from Osaka, he didn’t have a girl he was whipped over. But maybe Kaito could still exploit his weakness for a pretty face.

Hakuba’s eyes widened very slightly when he saw him, then, his lips twisted into a small smile. A good sign.

“What’s wrong, Miss?” he asked, seemingly fooled by Kaito’s female disguise. He exuded an air of simultaneous gentleness and confidence that Kaito knew drove the girls in his class crazy when he’d first transferred into their school.

Kaito bit his lip, pretending to be shy. Hakuba took the bait.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” the Detective assured in a sickeningly saccharine voice he only used on girls. “I’m here to protect you. You can tell me anything.”

The thief went through the motions of vacillating a little, before seemingly breaking down and throwing himself into Hakuba’s arms.

“Please, please,” he sobbed, very convincingly, he thought, and wrung his shaking hands on the other boy’s chest, “He’s stolen the necklace my late grandfather gave me! It’s all I have left of him! Please, bring it back!”

And Hakuba, always gallant, always ready, always primed, to help a young woman in need —he imagined. Especially if she was a pretty one, as Kaito had made sure he was — long, soft hair and pouty lips and the shortest skirt he could get away with. And he must’ve been sure “she” would sing his praises afterwards, tell all her friends about the handsome, brilliant Detective who saved her treasure from that wretched thief.

“No need to worry, Miss,” he assured Kaito, suave and arrogant as he always was. “I promise I’ll return it to you and catch that thief once and for all.”

It was a promise that ended with Hakuba handcuffed to a telegraph pole and the pretty girl he’d tried to help ripping her mask off to reveal that trademark manic grin. Kid escaped (as usual), the gem was nevertheless returned (as usual) and the entire police force, including the young Detective himself, left the scene in humiliation. (As usual).

His old man would be proud.

 

* * *

 

 

ii.

 

“Damn that Kid!” Aoko’s voice reverberated loudly even around the chattering classroom. She was just like her father in so many ways; thundering, passionate, stubborn — a real spitfire. Though Kaito felt she was a great deal sharper than him too, as well as sweeter and more sensitive. Cuter. Though that last one was something he’d never admit out loud.

Though she was talking about his alter-ego, he was undisturbed. He was so used to it by now he was almost bored. Leaning back in his chair with his feet on the table in front of him, playing with a spare coin, making it appear and disappear through dextrous fingers.

“I can’t believe he got away again!” Aoko cried. Then, in a strange deviation from routine, she rounded on the teen Detective sitting across from her, “I can’t believe Hakuba-kun got tricked again!”

Silence. All eyes turned to him. Bringing up Hakuba’s general incompetence when it came to catching the phantom thief was somewhat of a taboo subject in their class. He was the nearest thing their school had to a celebrity, and no one really wanted to piss him off.

Kaito got ready to laugh hysterically as Hakuba spluttered and grasped for an answer to her accusation. What would he try this time? ‘I was having on off day’? ‘It was Nakamori’s fault’? ‘I had to go to the toilet in the middle of the chase?’

However, it was Kaito who was caught off-guard when the other boy didn’t even flinch.

“It’s true I was unable to apprehend him this time,” he replied, calm smirk plastered on his face. “But to say I was tricked is simply incorrect.” He looked up, eyes meeting daringly with Kaito’s. “I knew his identity the whole time.”

There was a flurry of ‘Ehhhh?!’s and ‘How?!’s from their clambering classmates but Hakuba didn’t take his eyes off his target. His gaze was sharp, knowing, with that smug edge that made Kaito feel oddly exposed. He felt his face heat up. He wasn’t sure if it was with anger or… or…

Then Hakuba took his eyes off him, as if he’d never been looking at all. He gave a nonchalant shrug to the class.

“Detective’s secret,” he said simply and picked up his bags to go to lunch.

 

-

 

“How did you know his identity?” Kaito asked him later, and immediately wished he hadn’t when he saw the smug look on Hakuba’s face.

They were assigned to afternoon cleanup duty together, much to Kaito’s chagrin. But it did present an opportunity.

“Didn’t I say it was a Detective’s secret?” Hakuba said, the flicker of a tease in his voice. He was sitting on a chair in the empty classroom, leaning on the handle on his broom.

Kaito bit down his urge to sock him right in his stupid, handsome face. (Wait, handsome?)

“If you don’t wanna tell me, then fine!” he huffed angrily, turning away, “You don’t have to be so precious about it! Like I care anyway! You probably just made it up anyway, to save yourself from looking incompetent.”

He slung his bag onto his shoulder in one swift, unpolished motion and was ready to storm away when Hakuba’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Someone who was really crying in public would be trying to hide it, not displaying it so openly.”

Kaito spun around to face the Detective again. The golden sunset bathed the room in both light and shadow, flickering on the boy’s features and that infuriating, knowing look. His heart beat hard against his ribcage. He felt oddly hot even in the cool, soothing air of the afternoon.

He tried to calm himself. Morphed his features into a facade of bored contempt.

“And you know this from personal experience, I’m guessing?” he asked, smirking lazily.

Hakuba was unperturbed by the insult.

“Detectives,” he began, moving slightly so the chair scraped a half-moon shadow on the wooden floor, “are like criminals in the sense that they must always remain impassive at the scene of crime. That was what my father drilled into me as a child.” He leaned forward, putting more weight on the broom handle and for once looking away from Kaito, almost as if lost in a long-gone memory. “No matter how much death and suffering one has seen, one can’t let the criminal think one is weak.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Kaito scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Hakuba ignored him.

“After a while,” he continued, fingers now drumming on the table, “One gets so good at suppressing emotions one almost no longer feels them.” He looked at Kaito, deep brown eyes glinting gold in the fading afternoon sun. “You would know how that feels. Right, Kuroba?”

 

-

 

Kaito found he couldn’t sleep that night. He wondered what was wrong with Hakuba. Ever since Nightmare, or was it Golden Eye? There had been a change in the Detective. He was still arrogant and smug as hell, of course, he wouldn’t be Hakuba if he wasn’t. But the meticulous, determined young Detective he’d met months ago, the one who was so hell-bent, fixated even, on catching him — was gone.

Hakuba knew who he was. True, Akako had helped him out of that one. But he was supposed to be a famous Detective. Surely, it would’ve been easy, _elementary_ , to prove his case from here. That night Akako had flown off on her broomstick could easily be dismissed as a copycat heist, just like others that had come before. It hadn’t fit his M.O. — something the police knew very well. And Kid wasn’t an Okama whatever anyone said.

Instead, Hakuba was going out of his way to help him. Telling him about Chat Noir, clearing him of any guilt after Jack Connery’s death…

He wondered if Hakuba was playing a game with him. Sometimes the Detective would start conversations with him for seemingly no reason. Tease him about being Kid, to which Kaito would yell that he wasn’t and Hakuba would simply chuckle in response.

Sometimes he would feel eyes on the back of his neck in class. Sometimes Hakuba would catch his gaze, smile at him. That conceited, over-confident smile. The most aggravating thing about him was he looked at Kaito like he knew, _he knew_. Knew things Kaito wouldn’t let anyone know.

_“You would know how that feels. Right, Kuroba?”_

He was so used to being the predator, toying with his victims, that the idea of being the prey this time unnerved him beyond anything else.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

iii.

 

Kaito tried to avoid Hakuba as much as possible over the next few days. It was easy enough to do, given that he spent most of his time with Aoko anyway. When he was alone, however, he found himself ducking behind trees and quickly into empty corridors if he sensed the other boy coming his way.

Hakuba didn’t seem fazed by his behaviour. In fact he didn’t even try to seek Kaito out. Instead, he seemed to spend most of his lunchtimes reading. Despite being polite to everyone who wasn’t Kaito and especially charming towards girls, Hakuba seemed to prefer to be on his lonesome most of the time. It was usually reading some Criminal Psychology book with oddly specific titles like ‘How to Spot a Thief’ or ‘The Lawbreakers Living Amongst Us’ or ‘Into the Mind of the Juvenile Delinquent.’ There was even a title called ‘Dating Catwoman: The Art of Romancing a Career Criminal’ which Kaito found very strange. After all, why would Hakuba want to date a female criminal? He was a Detective. Weirdo.

Then Kaito realised he had been inadvertently spying on Hakuba while simultaneously trying to avoid him, which made him the even bigger weirdo. Maybe Hakuba’s overly friendly behaviour had all been in his mind. The other boy didn’t even seem to care about him; a fact which should’ve made him happy, but… why did he feel a strange sense of loss?

Nevertheless, he managed his goal of avoiding the Detective well enough until the end of the week. Which happened to be the worst possible day of all worst possible days. He was assigned to afternoon cleaning duty again and by the time he’d finished the sky was dark with rain. He didn’t have an umbrella, and Aoko had already gone home. Brilliant.

Normally not having an umbrella wouldn’t be a problem, but the rain was really coming down heavy. It bombarded the ground in waves, so thick it created a white mist that blurred all surroundings. Thundering down in a way that obscured all other sound. Running through it was an option, but he had a lot of papers in his bag for preparing for an upcoming test that he really couldn’t afford to get wet.

Just as he was contemplating calling Jii to pick him up (which he really didn’t want to do knowing it was the old man’s working hours and he’d have to leave the bar unattended), a black umbrella was thrust in front of his face.

“Looks like even a master thief can’t escape the weather,” came the smooth voice from above him.

“I’m not Kid!” he yelled on instinct, and “Urgh! Why are you here?” upon seeing Hakuba’s face.

“I see you have made the rather foolish mistake of not bringing an umbrella despite the earlier forecast.”

“You—!” growled Kaito, but Hakuba interrupted him.

“—I, on the other hand, am in possession of such an item. It would be, quite frankly, rude of me not to share it with my classmate in need.”

“I’d rather drown.” Kaito groused stubbornly.

Hakuba shrugged his shoulders. “If that’s the way you want it,” he sighed, eyes downcast in mock-regret. “I suppose I’ll just leave you here in the windy, cold, wet downpour while I travel safely to my warm home under the cover of my nice, dry umbrella.”

The wind howled for extra impact.

 

-

 

“Is it normal in England for two guys to share an umbrella?” Kaito grumbled, hugging his bag to his chest.

“I can’t see why not,” Hakuba mused placidly. His generally nonchalance was beginning to piss Kaito off. What pissed him off more was the fact that their current positions were starting to trigger memories of all those romantic dramas Aoko and his mother made him watch.

“Why do you ask?” Hakuba continued, forcing Kaito to have to explain itself.

“There are some cultural differences…” he trailed off awkwardly, not knowing how to continue. He clutched his bag even closer to his chest, desperately fighting the flush that had started to tinge his cheeks. What was wrong with him? Maybe he was overthinking all this. He was the one who had agreed to go with Hakuba in the first place, even if it was just to save his papers. He supposed it was normal even in Japan for two men to platonically share an umbrella. It was just all those dramas and shoujo mangas that turned it into a… weird thing.

He looked up briefly to see Hakuba looking at him with the smallest of upwards curves on his lips. The blond boy quickly turned away and seemed to cover his mouth with his free hand. Was Hakuba… laughing at him? That bastard!

“You know,” the Detective began again, “when I moved back to Japan, it wasn’t very difficult for me to adjust.” Kaito quirked his eyebrows, unsure of where this was going, but Hakuba simply continued, looking not to him but to the grey-seeped street ahead of them. “The Japanese and the English are similar in many ways. They take pains to appear modest, respectful, polite and not too familiar. They can seem cold on the outside. And they never say what they mean.”

Kaito was silent for a moment, wondering why Hakuba was making seemingly unnecessary conversation. But something in what he said sparked a flicker of curiosity in him.

“And do you?” he asked before he could help himself.

“Do I?” Hakuba raised a fine eyebrow.

“Say what you mean?”

“Well,” he chuckled, “I am both English and Japanese.”

“Does that make it doubly as strong or do they cancel each other out?”

“What do you think?” Hakuba looked at him now, something sharp in his gaze. As if he was challenging him. _Tell me what you think of me. Figure me out._

“That you’re full of shit,” Kaito said curtly.

The Detective’s only response was to hum lightly, the smallest of smiles on his lips, still refusing to give anything away.

This response only served to increase Kaito’s growing annoyance. He wasn’t even sure what was really pissing him off. It was probably that Hakuba was still acting so different, so friendly, and giving him those… looks. It all felt like some bizarre master plan that would eventually lead to him being exposed as Kaitou Kid.

After a sizeable silence, in which the only sounds that could be heard were that of the plummeting rain and the occasional whizz of passing cars, Kaito decided to speak up.

“Why don’t you fight with me anymore?”

To his satisfaction, Hakuba looked genuinely taken aback for a moment. “Pardon?” he managed, eyes wide.

“We used to fight all the time and now you’re being all weird and… It’s creeping me out, okay?” Kaito explained, looking at his shoes where he was kicking a piece of gravel along the ground. To his continual irritation, he could almost feel the Detective’s smirk from above him.

“I wasn’t aware you missed our banter, Kuroba,” came the smooth as silk voice.

“Missed is not the right word!” Kaito yelled back, almost bristling with anger.

“I suppose I should endeavour to throw in some insults during casual conversation with you to make up for the recent lack of them,” Hakuba suggested, looking way too gleeful for someone who had just been told by another that they didn’t “fight” enough anymore.

“Asshole,” Kaito spat.

“Now I’m sure you can do better than that.”

“Dick.”

“Are you attempting to insult me or describe parts of human anatomy?”

“Bastard.”

“Incorrect, my parents were married when I was conceived.”

“AARGH!”

His miniature break-down was cut off by Hakuba’s laughter.

“I like it when you’re angry,” he said suddenly.

Kaito immediately stopped walking.

Remarkably, Hakuba sensed this and also stopped so the magician wouldn’t end up stranded in the rain. Kaito opened his mouth a couple of time without any sound managing to escape, before he finally spoke.

“…What?!” he exclaimed incredulously.

“You’re so fake around others, but with me, you really loose your cool,” Hakuba put his free hand on his chin, as if in deep contemplation. “I wonder what that means.”

“You’re an idiot!” Kaito replied, face colouring, “That’s what it means!”

The Detective simply smiled.

“This is your stop,” he pointed out, gesturing to the house behind them. Kaito whipped around in surprise. He had been so worked up he hadn’t even noticed they’d already reached his house. “Do you need me to walk you to your door?” he offered politely. Well, faux-politely, in Kaito’s opinion. That fake-gentleman act was really starting to grate.

“No!”

“Alright,” Hakuba conceded, unperturbed. “Stay warm. Wouldn’t want you to end up sick before your heist on Saturday.”

“I’M NOT KID!” Kaito shrieked.

He ran to his house, no longer caring about the pouring rain. When he was safely inside, he let of a sigh of relief, sliding down his door while still clinging tightly to his bag.

If Hakuba’s goal was to unnerve him so much it would be easier to let slip he was Kid, it was definitely working.

But Kaito wouldn’t let himself be taken down so easily. Hakuba didn’t know the caliber of who he was dealing with.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

iv.

 

The night was his favourite time of all. Nothing else could compare. Standing on the rooftop of an apartment block building, when the cool midnight air billowed against skin, the black sky shone with neon lights, the ground slick and wet from the evening’s rain.

The sapphire in his hand glinted by the light of the moon. It wasn’t the one he’d been searching for, but he was starting to wonder if that really mattered. He’d embarked on a fool’s errand, after all. A spontaneous, haphazard idea, with little planning and even smaller chance of success. At the rate he was going, he’d probably end up dead sooner or later. In a pool of blood with a bullet through his head, or broken and crumpled at the foot of a 50 story building.

He still couldn’t decide which of the two would make a better headline.

The creak of a door opening and the sound of footsteps on wet concrete broke him out of his thoughts.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” said the voice.

“Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, Tantei-san,” Kaito replied smoothly without turning around. He quickly pocketed the jewel as the intruder’s footsteps drew nearer, the splash of leather shoes through shallow puddles.

“Nevertheless, it’s still a deduction that’s beyond the rest of the task force,” the voice chuckled.

He turned around. Hakuba was standing right in front of him. Wind ruffling the lapels of his trench coat. Golden hair glinting in the light of the neon signs. Kaito steeled himself. He wasn’t going to be out-manoeuvred this time.

“That’s more of a reflection on them rather than you,” he said. He leaned back on the railing, projecting the image of perfect, practiced nonchalance. Then, lips curving upwards slyly, “Be that as it may, it still means you have me to yourself.” His words and tone chosen to give that delicately seductive air that could be effective in distracting anyone trying to trap him. He inclined his body slightly towards the Detective, looking up at him through his eyelashes. “What are you going to do with me?”

If he expected Hakuba to be flustered by this sudden come-on, he was sorely mistaken. In fact, he looked more amused than anything else.

“Believe me, I would love to _catch_ you,” he started, putting a strange emphasis on the word ‘catch’ which gave Kaito a shiver for some reason. “But I know as soon as I try you’ll disappear into a cloud of smoke before I can so much as lay a finger on you.”

Kaito scrutinised him. It was true. He was hypersensitive to movement and if Hakuba made any sign of wanting to capture him, he’d immediately escape. They both knew that, but why bring it up? Was he trying to lull Kaito into a false sense of security?

“I don’t think that’s the whole truth, dear Detective,” the thief drawled, deciding to call his bluff. “I think the real reason is that you don’t want to arrest me anyone.” His heart beat faster, not quite believing what he was about to say next. “I think it’s because you’re in love with me.”

He expected many things to happen after this. Hakuba to splutter, turn red, deny all charges. Or even to become enraged, ask how dare he suggest such a thing. Or simply to laugh in his face, and continue their game of witty banter.

What he didn’t expect was for Hakuba look him in the eye, and say, very seriously,

“And what if I am?”

For a second the world stopped moving.

“If by love you mean that I can’t stop thinking about you, then yes,” Hakuba explained, never taking his eyes off Kaito. “You fascinate me.”

“H-huh?” was all Kaito could manage in return. Poker Face be damned.

This had be a joke. Part of Hakuba’s grand plan to finally put him behind bars. Distracting him so he’d be easier to subdue.

He made sure he was on high alert. Vigilant to any signs of handcuffs.

Disappearing now was definitely an option. But it was almost as if there was a strange, outside force compelling him to stay. To see this bizarre pantomime to its conclusion.

“Everyone thinks you’re carefree and fun and extroverted,” Hakuba continued, leaving Kaito wondering whether he was referring to their classmates or Kid’s fans, “but I know the real you. You feel the most comfortable when you’re on your own. And you’re so cold. So, so cold. But maybe that’s why I like you.”

“Why?” Kaito managed in return. It was almost a whisper. Hakuba was so near. He could feel the body heat radiating off his chest. If he only leaned forward a little, they would be touching.

Hakuba pretended to think about it. At least, that was what Kaito assumed he was doing. He didn’t want to look up. Those centimetres the Detective had over him seemed an insurmountable wall now. If he looked up, his eyes would be level to Hakuba’s neck and Hakuba would be looking down at him, smiling that insufferable, arrogant smile, unflinching gaze from those deep brown eyes and he’d feel like a child; vulnerable and confused and with no escape.

“Because I’m cold too,” he said finally. He reached across to brush a stray piece of hair from Kaito’s cheek, causing the thief to flinch but still not meet his gaze. His hands were like ice. Or was that only because Kaito was burning up? “The two of us can understand each other.”

“You could never understand me,” Kaito said spitefully.

Hakuba smiled. It wasn’t that self-possessed, arrogant smile he was so used to seeing. It was soft, tender.

“You think you’re so slick, but under all that machismo you’re just a scared little boy, aren’t you?” he said, although there was no bite in his words. Instead, almost a gentleness. “Scared of being caught. Scared of trusting others. Scared of being loved.”

Kaito’s heart beat wildly out of his chest. There were still no signs of Hakuba attempting to capture him, but now he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to prevent it if there were. He couldn’t think anymore, he couldn’t breath.

“Stop acting like you know me,” he gritted out, although he found his words caught in his throat, came out choked and shaky.

“Of course I know you,” Hakuba replied, laughing as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He leaned forward, causing Kaito to lean back but find he had no where to go. “I’m obsessed with you.”

Before he could retort, he found himself being kissed. Hakuba taking his face in his hands, bringing him closer, closer. Those hands were warm now. Kaito’s whole body was warm. Hakuba’s pale eye lashes brushing his cheeks, the way his body moved. His lips were so cold, and only pressed soft against his. They tasted exactly how Kaito would’ve expected him to taste — of ice cubes and something minty fresh that could’ve been mouth spray. Hakuba’s hands on his waist, firm, strong. He’d never been this close to another person. The world was spinning out of control.

Then he drew back. It was like waking up from a strange dream. Kaito felt his loss all over his body. Like the space Hakuba had occupied was only waiting for him to return.

He looked at him. Skin flushed a pretty pink, the tiniest hint of a full blown smile about to form. And the way his high cheekbones cast shadows on his cheeks, the way the wind whistled through his wheat-coloured hair and neon lights reflected in his eyes. Eyes that looked at Kaito so tenderly. So sincere, as if saying _trust me. Trust me._

“I’m sorry,” Hakuba murmured, voice deep and soft, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

It was only then that Kaito felt the moisture on his cheeks.

“I’m not crying,” he croaked stubbornly, furiously wiping his face. Tears seeped into his satin gloves.

It was the first time he’d cried in front of another person for as long as he could remember. And all for what? For some lie that Hakuba wanted him to believe?

But then was it really a lie? If it was, then Hakuba must have been the best actor in the whole world. Better even that Kaito. And that was something that was really hard for him to accept.

Then was it real?

Lots of people claimed they were in love with Kid. He’d already received several marriage proposals from complete strangers during his heists. His fan club was growing bigger all the time and all the members said they loved him. He’d hear the shouts of the adoring public from the tops of rooftops, so loud not even the whir of the police sirens could drown them out. Akako might’ve been in love with him. But she just wanted to own him. His classmates often told him that Aoko was in love with him. But he never believed it.

People who fell in love with him. Well, they were all just tricked, weren’t they? He was good at that. Charming with words; always knowing exactly what to say. Looks. Sly touches.

Nobody knew the real him. Though they all thought they did.

He flirted with Hakuba sometimes, at heists. He didn’t mean anything by it, just like he didn’t mean anything with the numerous amount of people he willed to his bidding with his so-called sexual appeal. From that family of women who tried to stop him robbing their house, to his teacher so he could get out of class, to the Osaka Detective he fooled into thinking Kaito was the girl he loved. But maybe, due to that, Hakuba had gotten tricked into believing thinking Kaito was the charismatic, romantic kind of person he pretended to be sometimes. Tricked into thinking Kid felt something for him, and that he returned those feelings.

After all, why would the Detective love Kaito when he had done nothing to earn it? All he did was act cross with Hakuba all the time.

As he was lost in thought, the Detective reached across and wiped the leftover tears from his eyes. No one had touched him so gently since his father.

“It’s not just Kid I like,” he said, causing Kaito’s breath to catch in his throat. “It’s the real you as well. You’re so beautiful.” Kaito lowered his hat over his face, causing Hakuba to clarify, “Your real face.”

“You haven’t seen my real face,” Kaito told him. “You don’t know the real me. You like me because I’m a puzzle. Once you solve me you’ll get bored and throw me away.”

“I solved you long ago,” Hakuba replied. His hand was so soft on Kaito’s cheek, like there wasn’t any pressure to do anything ever again. He wondered if Hakuba could feel just how hot his face was. Or see just how much he was blushing in the blue black night.

“How arrogant of you.” He tried his best to sound scornful, but it came out as more weak and desperate than he would ever have wanted.

“If you say so, Kaito-kun,” Hakuba agreed placidly. The hand on Kaito’s cheek slid, feather-light, to his lips. Lingering only for a second before it came to rest on his shoulder.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t call me by some other man’s name at a time like this.”

“You hardly ever slip up, do you?” Hakuba was laughing now. It seemed like he laughed at Kaito a lot these days. But it was in that stupidly affectionate way that made him feel all funny. “I suppose that makes the times you do all the more rewarding.”

“You talk too much,” countered Kaito, mustering the courage to glare up at him now, even if it was through watery eyes.

“Would you rather I kiss you instead?” Hakuba asked, and did just that.

Soft and slow at first. Then faster, harder. Arms that cradled him to the body in front of him. Hands in flaxen hair. And he found himself kissing back.

Maybe it was all a lie, but it was such a beautiful one. He knew this moment between them would have to end right here and now. Because bringing it up again as his civilian persona could mean his identity uncovered in the most embarrassing way. Hakuba had seen through him, made him bare his soul. Loose his cool. And that wasn’t a vulnerability he should ever have let himself feel. He had a higher purpose, a purpose that involved trusting nothing and no one.

But for now, for now, maybe he could forget. And let the Detective hold him. Kiss him. Love him.

And later, when Hakuba looked at him, eyes searching for the connection they had shared, he would pretend he felt nothing at all. And when he lay awake at night, touching his kiss swollen lips with dis-believing fingers… He would desperately try to convince himself that the only man he could ever love was his dear, departed father, and definitely not the handsome, infuriating Detective who tried to steal his heart.

And he would never cry for anyone ever again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> asdsfdgd i hate this
> 
> but at least I finally did it omg. This is like the longest one shot I've ever written in my life. Ngl it took a lot out of me. 
> 
> I don't think I'm capable of writing a story that has a 100% happy ending lol. Maybe if people want I'll do a sequel or something that's a bit less depressing (or maybe it'll end up just as bittersweet bc that's just how i am lmao)
> 
> site note: I noticed that the first couple of episodes Kaito and Hakuba were in, they were pretty antagonistic to each other. But later episodes Hakuba randomly became super chill with him. Like he is weirdly quite friendly to Kaito? lol? Also Kaito is so fucking tsundere I'm so sorry. 
> 
>    
> Anyway if you liked this please comment to let me know!! It would really mean so much to me!! I am like,,, super shy and embarrassed about posting my fics here ;_;  
> Also, I'm open to requests ^v^ I think it would give me the courage to post more of my stuff :L
> 
> Also, also,,,, if you just wanna talk about Hakukai with me,, please feel free!! After writing this I have a lot of feels for this ship haha 
> 
>  


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